


High Rollers (The Nerdy Boy Remix)

by widgenstain



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, First Time, Floor Sex, Friends to Lovers, Height Differences, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mating Bond, Oblivious Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8091181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widgenstain/pseuds/widgenstain
Summary: For a telepath as powerful as he was, Charles could be incredibly dense when it came to picking up clues.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Night Of the High Rollers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/351244) by [a_q](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q). 
  * In response to a prompt by [a_q](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_q/pseuds/a_q) in the [xmen_remix_madness2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/xmen_remix_madness2016) collection. 



> I've loved the original fic for a very long time, it was one of the first and most defining A/O I ever read, and I always wanted to know how Charles and Hank got together in this verse. This is my attempt at it. 
> 
> Thank you so much [REDACTED] for betaing this!

For a telepath as powerful as he was, Charles could be incredibly dense when it came to picking up clues. It didn't help that nature had decided to deal him an oddity. Bonds formed differently, most sparked immediately at first glance, some needed a few touches and others – the rarest form – could take months of contact and familiarity until they developed. In all cases it usually was the omega who first noticed the changes in the chemistry so Charles wasn’t solely to blame for how long it took for them to click. Biologically speaking of course, since the mutual respect and understanding had been there from the day they met at the CIA lab.

Hank was brilliant, literally so; a sparkling, multifaceted, clear and bright mind like Charles had hardly ever felt before, paired with a good-natured, loyal heart and powers that stood in such intriguing contrast to his calm personality. Hank was attractive too, tall dark and handsome – of course Charles had noticed – but he wouldn’t allow himself to think of this in the invigorating and immensely productive hours they spent in the lab together. Hank was an unbonded omega, yes, but he was also nine years younger than Charles – a kid really – and certainly not a sex object to be ogled by his de facto boss/teacher while they were together in confined spaces.

Besides, Charles had no time for family plans. He had to clean up the mess that had been Cuba, hold the fine balance of being known to the CIA but not actually showing up on any records to protect the others; find new material on the X gene to understand and explain it better when the time came and eventually, maybe, build a school for young mutants. 

Plus, he had to keep Erik in check. Erik had not taken what went down too well and with Moira off hunting criminals, a lot of the emotional support fell on Charles. Charles, who admittedly had been a tad envious of Moira in the beginning. Erik was a fascinating, powerful mutant and he had hoped for a little necking, or maybe some hot nights of casual hotel sex, or maybe even that something more profound might form between him and Erik. And well, it did, but it was friendship of a complicated kind, not an imperative to mate.

That – Charles had decided – would come at a different stage in his life. Or never, families didn’t have to be blood-related, so he better concentrate on his work and ignore all the distractions. Combined with his promise not to peek into his friends’ minds unless it was unavoidable, that decision, he would later tell his children when they were asking questions about bonding, had led to an almost purposeful, selective blindness. A Charles without that decision certainly would have noticed the signs. Without question.

Signs like the mutual glances over huge chemistry books, the early breakfasts that they shared in comfortable silence, the day at the football field when Charles lost his shirt because it was too damn hot and Hank had picked it up with a strange look on his face to fold it on the bench. Charles thought it was adorable how Hank’s sense of order reached beyond the lab. He also abhorred the example he might set and he told a very confused looking Hank that just because Charles was an alpha, it didn’t mean he had to clean up after him. He could do that himself and so could Sean and Angel. 

Charles repeated this a lot less sternly when he caught the flu and Hank nursed and pampered him. After all Hank had a medical degree and the herbal baths he drew for him really helped. And it was so nice to have someone take care of him who wasn’t a servant, but a pretty, young omega who liked doing this for him… He felt a tiny bit guilty but couldn’t help it.

He felt a lot guiltier when Raven and Hank went into heat the same day and Charles couldn’t will down the constant erection tenting his slacks. Sean at least was similarly affected, but the whole day Charles’ mind wandered to those awkward teenage days around Raven, with the even more awkward and confusing reactions to his sister that he thought he had left long in his past. Not once did it occur to him that it wasn’t  _ Raven’s _ scent all over the mansion that made him respond in this embarrassing manner, but his hormones, instincts and hindbrain screaming all at once what his consciousness hadn’t yet realised; a fitting mate was close, in heat and needed his attention.

The moment that really should have made it all clear to him came one night, downstairs in the living room; the kids – they were all grown-ups he had to stop thinking of them as such – were watching Village of the Damned. Hank had beasted out, as Alex liked to call it, and was lying on the floor, without clothes, just a lot of soft blue fur. Charles almost choked to death on the sip of tea that had gone down the wrong pipe.

“Everything alright, professor?” Hank seemed genuinely worried.

“No, no… I’m fine.”

He coughed and took his seat on the sofa, trying to focus on the movie but then Angel slid down from her seat, crawled up to Hank and stretched out next to his massive body with a playful smile on her lips.

“Do you really think this is a good idea, to lie on the floor like this? You’re getting cold, Angel. And this can’t be comfortable for you Hank. Come up here, there is enough room on the sofa.”

He patted the seat and directed an irritated glare at Angel. Hank scrambled up very quickly, distracting Charles who was trying to find a comfy way to snuggle up to him that wasn’t too proprietary or as indecent as Angel's had been. Otherwise, he would certainly have seen Angel’s shit-eating grin as she stretched her hand out to Alex for her five dollars.

All of these times, any, would have called for a bond to form, for a connection that went beyond their synced minds during work. All the times they celebrated their baby-step successes in the lab, when Charles once again told Hank how brilliant and extraordinary his designs for new jets and a new Cerebro were, or when they just were going for their runs together. All excellent opportunities for nature to take its course.

It eventually happened over doing taxes. They were in the library; Hank was calculating expenses for the new jet materials. He was so quick and precise with the numbers, Charles was in plain awe. He was good with numbers too, but he hated dealing with money, and wasn’t it devilishly sexy how Hank just filled out those registry books? Weren’t taxes incredibly sexy?

Charles was quite certain they weren’t but all of a sudden he felt a warmth rushing to his cheeks and low pooling arousal in the pit of his belly. It was similar to the feeling he got when he was drinking and flirting with someone he knew he could convince to a little romp between the sheets. Soft, rosied power and joy, but increasingly more intense than what he had known before.

Wasn’t Hank looking beautiful today? His glasses on the tip of his nose, his shirt unbuttoned in the warm light of the fireplace. Had he always had those cheekbones? Charles, who had been standing behind Hank to get a better look at the papers suddenly noticed the fine soft hairs at the column of Hank’s neck, the perfect curve of his ear and the long strong line of his broad shoulders. His careful attempts to smooth the material of his shirt turned into gentle strokes under which Hank tensed for a second but then relaxed. He turned and looked up to Charles, realisation in his eyes and then tilted his head to the side a little to show Charles more of his long neck.

How strong he was. How strong and brilliant and wonderful their children would be. Hank’s and Charles’ powers combined, their minds combined, their lives intertwined forever… Charles thoughts frayed into incoherent scenes of happiness and safety and home as he bent forward to run his nose along Hank’s ear, down his neck into the crook where strong veins met muscle and collarbones. He smelled so good, but that wasn’t what made Charles shiver; he smelled so much like Charles already. And Charles like him. Their clothes, the air in the warm room, everything already carried their mingled scents and here, on this spot on Hank’s body it was the most obvious. Charles’ scent, the scent of his home mixed with Hank’s warm, young omega musk. Charles couldn’t resist taking a deep breath and kissing the exposed skin before he took Hank’s face in his hands and looked into the open and slightly dazed eyes.

“Do you feel it too?”

“Yes… I, I suspected for a while, but I didn’t expect to actually feel it.” Hank rubbed his own chest distractedly, right in the spot where Charles could feel his own heart hammer loudly too.

“So it’s the two of us then… Is this alright with you?”

Hank smirked.

“Aren’t we already as good as married?”

“You are my friend, Hank, and I can’t picture anyone I would want to spend every day of the rest of my life with more. But a bond is a bond and it includes more than just being friends. You’re young, Hank, so I’m asking you if you’re alright with this. If you’re ready?”

“Yes…yes I think I am. Let’s try.”

Hank slowly closed the distance between their faces and carefully, experimentally kissed Charles’ lips. The rush of warmth intensified and spread through his limbs like honey. Hank had said it was okay, and the feeling was too good not to just give in.

Charles kissed him back soundly, slowly taking over control of their movements. Charles had always loved kissing, he knew how to make it good with the most fleeting of his encounters, but he had never imagined that it could feel like this; with your intended bond-mate (with HANK! ). That one could lose oneself into it like this.

He climbed into Hank’s lap and they kissed long and deeply, breaths short between them, their hands in each other’s hair and the heated bodies close and closer. Hank’s hands wandered over his body, eager to touch but also a little too shy to do so properly and as good as it felt, Charles had to bring it up again, just to make sure:

“Hank, we don’t have to do it this way. The bond will form regardless; we can wait if you’re uncomfortable with this, sign the contract in a week and get used to the physical aspects slowly.”

“Sexual contact during the bond-initiating micro heat prevents separation anxiety and infertility issues and also increases the shared immunity system. There are studies that suggest its positive effects on the mental development of children too. Everything I read supports this practice. And I want to experience it. I want to know what it feels like for myself. Don’t you, professor?” 

Charles bit his lips to hide just how much he enjoyed being addressed like this, and smiled at Hank’s open and pleading face. He kissed him.

“Yes, I very much would like to do that.”

Charles proceeded to show Hank how to grope and touch him properly and returned the favour. He rubbed a whimpering Hank through his increasingly soaked trousers until he decided they had to come off, OFF, and they ended up on the library floor, struggling out of their clothes and laughing, but finally naked and ready. Hank was gorgeous like this, on his back, long legs spread for Charles and the air heavy with his scent. His hands wandered aimlessly over the fabric of the rug, still shy, and yes, Charles’ good, innocent friend; but right now he was the image of an omega boy ready for debauchment. Charles’ omega ready-for-debauchment.

A very tall boy though, so arranging him on the floor creatively was a task Charles’ brain wasn’t exactly up to at the moment. Good old trusted missionary it was, not that Hank seemed to mind, the way he wrapped his excitingly flexible limbs around Charles’ back, it worked just as perfectly.

Hank was so young and so responsive, the way he moaned and shivered around Charles, coming for the second time as Charles kept fucking him through the high that his whole world had shrunk down to. Deep thrusts and needy moans that compelled him to keep going. His cunt felt so good around Charles’ cock, he needed to show him, all the hot wet friction. All his. Soon. Charles stared at the expanse of the long neck that was bared to him. Primal urges necessitated violence. He didn’t stop his fast rhythm but he hesitated and Hank grumbled angrily before lewd, savage images rushed into Charles’ mind. Images of blue Hank riding Charles, biting him, using him like a puppet, interspersed with images of Charles spanking Hank, choking him and the sensation of Hank  _ wanting  _ all of it. Charles had to use every bit his control not to come immediately. Come inside his mate... Just a little more, just once more for Hank. Once more for his  _ dirty boy _ . Charles grinned at the affirmative groan and doubled his efforts, making Hank moan, hands tearing at Charles’ back, body completely open to him. Charles pushed in deep and hard, three, four times, and Hank shuddered and convulsed again. Only this time Charles didn’t hold back, he gave in to his orgasm, let it come and bit his mate at the nape of his neck until he could taste the blood.

In the afterglow, after he had shrunken again and pulled a blanket over his exhausted mate who had valiantly tried to get up but couldn’t, he smiled at Hank who snickered.

“Floor’s not very comfortable.”

Charles grinned back.

“Hank, I have to ask, was this your first time?”

Hank smiled brighter and hid his red and sweaty face in his blanket.

“Was I that bad, professor?”

“No, absolutely not! You know that! But I have to know if I just took your virginity on a 100 year old library rug. Of all places.”

Hank smiled with heavy lids and yawned before he said:

“Virginity is a construct of society with no real biological relevance. And no, I’ve fooled around a little with other omegas. No alphas though. Just you, professor. Good mate. Good rug.”

Hank’s eyes fell shut and he drifted off while Charles gently stroked his hair. He smiled. Nature had dealt him great cards after all.

A sweet, slightly snoring mate, who was not only his friend but who was able to help him with his goals like no other could, who wanted to be by his side, and who would help him shape the world. A part of his family who would give him more family. Charles could almost physically feel his chest swell with pride. All in good time of course, all in good time. Charles smugly looked in the vague direction of Hank’s stomach underneath the blanket and rolled onto his back.

That was when he noticed the mind at the door and half a second later Darwin stood inside the library. He stared at the big lump that was Hank. He stared at Charles who was still very much naked and uncovered. He took a deep breath of the mating-scent heavy air. Then he turned around and screamed down the hallway:

“You guys owe me 20 bucks!”

 

 

 


End file.
